


Capable of What?

by sunbeamsandmoonrays



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confused Jon Snow, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, Jealous Jon Snow, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Some Humor, and Sansa uses those things to her advantage, because I wrote this in 2015, references to Mad Max: Fury Road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 04:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20924486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbeamsandmoonrays/pseuds/sunbeamsandmoonrays
Summary: In which Sansa is going to a costume party, and Jon is not impressed with her costume.





	Capable of What?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rumaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/gifts).

> Happy Birthday, Rumaan (again)!

“What…are you wearing?”

Sansa straightened up from where she was adjusting her boots. “My costume,” she replied nonchalantly. “Do you like it?”

Jon swallowed and tried not to stare at her exposed stomach and legs. “Is there…uh, _more_ to it?”

“Of course there is!” With a flourish Sansa took a thin white sheet and tied it around her waist. _Well, at least that covers the legs_, Jon thought. “Well?” Sansa asked while rotating slowly. “What do you think?”

Jon tore his eyes away from Sansa’s pale back and cleared his throat. “I think you’re going to be cold,” he replied.

Sansa scoffed and turned to look at him fully. “It’s a costume party, Jon. It’ll be indoors.”

Jon clenched his fists and tried to ignore his rising annoyance. “So is there a reason that you’re going to a costume party dressed as an underwear model?”

Sansa looked offended. “I’m not an _underwear model_. I’m _Capable_.”

“Capable?” Jon asked. “Capable of what?”

“Honestly, Jon!” she exclaimed. “Capable was one of Immortan Joe’s wives.” At his confused look, Sansa tugged a little at her braids. “She was the red head in Mad Max!”

Now he remembered. Mad Max was all Sansa could talk about after they went to see it on one of their movie dates. He enjoyed it, too, but obviously not enough to know that some of the characters had names like “Capable.” “Oh,” he muttered.

“Yes, ‘oh’! Arya, Mya, Jeyne, Margaery, and I wanted to have a similar theme, so we went with the Wives. So I won’t be the only one there looking like an _underwear model_.” She went on to explain (in detail) how hard it was to get some of the costume pieces, like a blonde wig for Mya and a pregnant belly for Margaery, but frankly Jon was still stuck on one detail.

“Wait, which Wife is Arya going to be?” he blurted. Jon couldn’t imagine Arya dressing up in a skimpy white sheet. In fact, Jon didn’t even know Arya was even going to the costume party.

“Toast,” Sansa answered. “The really short one,” she clarified before Jon could ask who she was. _These names are ridiculous_.

“All right,” he said, before Sansa went off on another costume tangent. “I know you want a theme and all, but I really don’t want you going out dressed like…that.”

“I told you that I won’t be cold –“

“I know that,” he interrupted, before taking a breath. “It’s just…I don’t want you to get…any…unwanted attention, that’s all.”

There was a slight pause, then Sansa’s blue eyes lit up in mirth and she began to laugh. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” she asked.

“So what if I am?” Jon shot back. “You’re my girlfriend. I’m the only one who should be seeing that amount of skin.” When Sansa continued to laugh, Jon huffed in frustration and walked off toward the kitchen, only stopping when Sansa grabbed his hand.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed,” she said, then squeezed his hand gently. “But I’m not going to change my costume.” She let go of his hand and stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. Jon was suddenly overwhelmed by the smell of Sansa’s vanilla scented lotion. He lightly placed his hands on the soft skin of her waist as she began to place kisses along his jawline. “You could come with me and protect me from any unwanted advances,” she continued coyly in between kisses.

“I don’t even have a costume,” he mumbled as she brought her lips closer to his. “We’ll figure something out,” she breathed before finally kissing him. Jon groaned into her mouth, but broke away.

“But – doesn’t the party start in a few hours?” he asked. _Why the hell am I still talking? _

Sansa grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Are you saying that you’ll go with me?” she asked.

Jon was confused by her reaction. “Well, I guess so, but –“

“Great!” she squealed. And with that she started to tug his shirt off.

“Sansa, what -?”

“I already have the perfect costume,” she said as she wrenched the shirt free of his head. “Just stay right there!” She ran off in the direction of the bedroom but quickly came back with a plastic bag full of stuff and a pair of baggy black pants. “I thought you could be Nux, the War Boy,” she explained as she was unloading what looked to be bottles of white paint on the table. “He and Capable loved each other, no matter what Arya says, so I knew you could dress up as him.”

“Wait, I remember him,” Jon said. “Wasn’t he bald? Sansa, I’m not shaving my head.”

“You won’t have to,” she replied, once more reaching into the plastic bag. This time she pulled out a bald cap. “But you’re probably going to have to shave your beard,” she added as an afterthought.

Jon couldn’t help but laugh. “You planned on me going to this costume party all along, didn’t you? I should’ve known.”

Her Cheshire grin was back. “Of course I did. I know you can’t resist me. Now, am I going to have to shave your beard, or will you?”


End file.
